Lakanto stood at the edge of the forest,  watching the horizon for a few minutes for signs of movement, he sniffed the air too, but the recent rain had distorted the scent trail of the smugglers his patrol were hunting down.

The other six members of the patrol were nearby, searching for tracks in the undergrowth, three of them, including Lakanto, were Wolven, their keen noses were an invaluable tool of the Orient's border guards. They bore a mix of weapons; some had longbows, whilst others sported halberds or katana and shield.

Seytla, a female Wolven, walked over to Lakanto and passed a torn piece of cloth to him,
“What do you make of that?” she asked,
“Hmmm...” he mused as he tried decipher the scents,  “They might have been a day ago or so... not sure...”

Bushes rustled suddenly, followed by a angry voices and clashing steel. Ambush!

Yells and the din of combat filled the air,  Lakanto suddenly found himself on his knees, feeling a sharp pain in his neck, short of breath and robbed of energy. He looked up to see Seytla cry his name her face ridden with sorrow and tears. Everything seemed to slow down.

Lakanto gingerly felt his neck, he could feel a slight trickle of blood. Then a small, cold steel dart, greeted his index finger.

Reality became dark and noises distant and distorted, he could vaguely see Seytla take her helmet off and look him in the eyes, her hands clutching his, calling to him, not wanting to have a friend die like this.

The vile poison slowed his heart, overwhelming his body... the compulsion to let go simply too inviting...

                                                 

“Get up.” commanded a voice, deep and powerful.

Heart beating again, Lakanto opened his eyes, he saw he was no longer in a  forest, but on cool stones of an ancient, floor in a small, dark room. Feeling no pain, he got back on his feet, and looked around   the room, he saw an gnarled wooden door creak shut behind him, making an ominous clunk, the things beyond it were distorted and ever warping.

Lakanto felt his neck again, the dart was gone.

“So... am I... dead?” asked Lakanto, looking around, asking whoever had awoken him.

Suddenly a fire place burst into life, illuminating the stone walls with flickering, warm light. A cloaked and hooded figure bearing a scythe hovered next to the fireplace.

“Yes, you perished in that ambush, that poison was exceptionally potent.” replied Death,

“Where am I? The heavens?” Lakanto asked,

“No, you are in the Tower of Revival, for you may yet earn a chance to live again, step into the great hall  if you want that chance...” explained Death, starting sound a little impatient, fading away as he finished speaking.

Opening a small door, Lakanto entered a vast, cathedral like hall, dimly lit by small, high up windows, there were many people who had died like him, all looking up at Death as he reappeared above them, waiting to hear how they would that precious second chance.

There were at least a dozen of them, many of them human, and many wearing strange clothing...

One human was dressed in drab green and a similarly painted helmet, he clutched a musket like weapon, but it was very alien looking in comparison to the few black powder weapons he had seen before. But someone else caught his eye...

It was another human dressed in a long, white coat, but  his right arm was a hideously deformed limb of tentacles that ended in a toothy maw in place of a hand. Lakanto glared at the man, assuming he was something of evil origins, maybe part-daemon or a sorcerer...

Further observation of the strange gathering he was part of was interrupted as Death begun to speak aloud to them, his voice laden with a rehearsed seriousness of a grand speech,

“You are all here because of a single desire. This desire, this need, burns like bright star fire against dark inevitability. The intense need to live, to go on and perhaps leave your mark on the living world. I alone hold the power to grant this dearest wish. All you need to do is reach the top of this very tower. If you complete this task your life will resume as though the event of your death had never happened. But only one is allowed to return. The fabric of reality will allow no more than that. So which of you will it be? This will be decided by one thing and one thing alone... battle.”

They all tensed, and looked around at each other, some confident, some nervous, yet all were eager to prevail.